


Cold Turkey

by Roundworm



Category: 1917 (Movie 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, M/M, One Shot, Smoking, Withdrawal, and a lack thereof
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:21:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28166175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roundworm/pseuds/Roundworm
Summary: It was 1979, an era of sex, drugs, and rock and roll. He’d gotten laid off from his job of five years, evicted from his flat, and the owner of the last couch he’d surfed now hated his guts.Ellis couldn’t have possibly picked a worse time to quit smoking.
Relationships: Joseph Blake/Lieutenant Leslie
Comments: 3
Kudos: 8





	Cold Turkey

**Author's Note:**

> My true Magnum Opus

It was the sound of knocking that awakened Ellis that morning, sprawled out across the backseat of his old beater. He peeled his eyes open, still unwilling to acknowledge that he existed in the world, and tilted his head back slightly to catch a glimpse of the knocker. A police officer stood outside the window, his knuckles still rapping against the glass. With a long, loud sigh, Ellis heaved himself up from his impromptu bed and reached over to roll the window part way down. 

“Can I help you?” He drawled, tapping his fingers against his thighs in a frenzied sort of way. Ironically, it probably looked like he was high off something. The officer fixed him with a suspicious look and glanced around the inside of the car. 

“You can’t park here, sir.” The man said bluntly. “Can’t sleep here either.”

Ellis sighed again, dropping his head back. “Of course not.” He grit through his teeth, regretting the night he’d thrown all of his cigarettes out now more than ever. “Is there anywhere I _can_ sleep?” 

The officer opened his mouth, then apparently thought better of himself upon taking a proper look at Ellis.  
“Well,” he said in the sort of voice that implied that Ellis wasn’t gonna like the rest of the sentence. “I can take you down to the station. Holding cells are free.”

Ellis knew that wasn’t really a serious threat, but he was so high strung in that moment that he took it as one. He got out of the car. “You arresting me?”

“Not exactly.” 

“Here,” He cocked his fist back. “I’ll make up your mind for you.”

Ellis wondered, as he stared out through the bars on the windows, if he’d ever get his car back. It’d probably end up in a junkyard somewhere, rotting away. Damn. He liked that car. 

His hands shook uncontrollably while they took his fingerprints, heard the tapping of his shoe on the stark tile flooring. Why did he quit? Why did he fucking quit?

They gave him a phone call, but who was he supposed to call? His parents wouldn’t pick up, and even if they _did_ , they definitely wouldn’t pay his bail. He had acquaintances, kind of, but he was pretty sure that kid Kilgour had (rightfully) dropped him by this point. 

Suddenly, he realized it. There was only one viable option. Joseph Blake. 

He’d called Ellis once a couple of weeks ago, far before this, wanting to reconnect after drifting apart—and Ellis, halfway through his fourth cigarette that morning, felt years and years of suppression crash back into him like a freight train. 

The majority of his mind was telling him to _definitely not_ call Joe—Joe did not have _time_ to drive up here and bail his sorry ass out just to drive all the way back down again. Not to mention, that would be the worst possible way for Joe to see him again for the first time.   
But the smaller, quiet, desperate part told him “Joe won’t mind. Joe is great. Call Joe, he can help. He’d know what to do. He always did”. 

Ellis fucking hated that little part of himself for relying so heavily on a man he’d lost touch with for ten plus years. 

Just as he was ready to accept that he’d at least have a place to sleep, he heard a number being dialed. Imagine his surprise when he looked down and found his own hand punching in the Blakes’ home number, still the same after so long. The absolute _betrayal_. 

“Hello, Catherine speaking. Who is this?” Came Mrs. Blake’s voice through the phone. Somehow, that was even worse, because now Ellis had to weakly mutter,

“Uh, this is Ellis. Leslie.” He cleared his throat, tried not to hunch into himself too badly. “Can— can you put Joe on the phone? Please?” 

Mrs. Blake was quiet for a terrifying moment before she seemed to brighten up in recognition. “Ellis! Oh, of course, dear, I’ll call him down for you.” She seemed to put her hand over the speaker, but he heard the “Joseph, Ellis is on the line! He wants to talk to you!” loud and clear. He cringed.   
“Alright, he’ll be with you in just a second.” Mrs. Blake’s smile was audible, so Ellis whispered out a “thank you” and waited. 

Finally, the phone was shuffled around and it was Joe on the other end. Ellis clammed up. Why did he call? What the hell was wrong with him?

“Hello?” Joe asked after a few seconds of silence. Then, “...Ellis?”

“Hey,” Ellis distantly heard himself say. “So, you remember a couple days ago how you said you’d be coming up to visit?”   
Joe confirmed with a hum. “Right, well, the thing is. See, the thing… well, there would be nowhere to visit.”

Joe was silent for an equally terrifying moment, only it was longer than his mother’s. “Sorry?” 

Ellis could picture the look on Joe’s face. He probably would’ve laughed if he didn’t want to die. “Yeah, see, well, so— so I don’t have a… job… anymore. And… also, funnily enough, I don’t have a flat either.”

The silence was deafening this time. 

“Oh yeah, I’m also calling from a police station.”

“Ellis.” Joe finally spoke again, and now Ellis was almost wishing he’d stayed quiet. “What the hell happened?” 

“Well I was sleeping in my car, and I was parked on—”

“No, no, not just the last part. All— all of it.”

So he tried to make it as short as possible, prompted by an impatient finger-twirling gesture from the officer with the crooked nose. 

“Okay…” Joe let out a slow breath. “Okay. So… wow.”

“Yeah, you’re telling me.”

It was quiet for another long moment. The officer knocked on the table and made the same gesture more forcefully. 

“Look, I just— I don’t know why I called you, it just happened.” Ellis confessed, giving into temptation and flipping him the bird. If he was already arrested, how much worse could it really get? “I guess I just wanted to let you know so you don’t waste your time.”

“Wait, you thought that that was going to keep me _home_?” Oh God. “What— where are you, what station? Jesus Christ, Ellis, I’m coming up there.”

“You’re six fucking hours away—”

“The station. Now.”

The name spilled from his lips immediately. Goddammit. 

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Followed by a dial tone. 

So Ellis waited. He waited in that holding cell for six and a half hours, tapping his foot, wringing his hands, unable to partake in his only character trait. He must have memorized every millimeter of that six-by-eight cube. 

He did end up sleeping, eventually, but it felt like he’d only blinked and suddenly the cell was being unlocked. Ellis sat up, his head pounding and his mouth dry, probably looking a mess, and was officially breathing the same air as Joseph Blake once more. At least, he was ninety-nine percent sure it was Joe. He had the same eyes and the same hair, but the Joe he’d known was a boy, and this was a _man_. 

As Ellis stood on unstable legs, he noticed that Joe was taller than him now, too. Fucker. 

“Somehow,” (probably) Joe started with a slanted grin after a long moment of silent staring, “This is exactly how I imagined you’d look.”

Ellis scowled, but at the same time he stumbled over and pulled him into a hug. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” He asked, but Joe only chuckled and hugged him back. 

“Glad to see you too.”

A strange sense of déjà-vu filled Ellis as they left the police station, the knuckles on his right hand aching. As they stood there on the pavement outside, looking around awkwardly, Ellis didn’t know how to proceed. He opened his mouth, about to say something like “Hey, thanks for driving all the way here. Well, see you later.”

“Come back to the ranch with me.” Joe beat him to the punch. “You can stay in the guestroom for as long as you need to, your work can cover rent, it’ll be perfect. Just like old times, yeah?” 

Shit. It _was_ perfect, wasn’t it?

The only flaws Ellis could find were dependent solely on himself, and he knew Joe wouldn’t hear a single syllable of that. Ellis really shouldn’t have underestimated Joe’s steadfast resolve to be the kindest, most generous man to have ever lived. Who the hell else would drive twelve hours here and back for a man he hadn’t seen in thirteen years? For _him_? He blew out a breath, his fingers trembled. 

Joe kept giving him this long look, like he actually cared or something. 

“Okay.” Ellis forced out. 

Joe sighed in relief, a smile tugging at his lips. “Okay.” 

When he turned back to the car, Ellis squeezed his eyes shut for just a moment, centering himself as best as a man like him could. He opened them in time to watch Joe open the passenger side door. 

“Backseat, Tom.” He said, jerking his thumb back. There was a groan before Joe’s younger brother dragged himself out of the front seat, a map in hand. 

“Hey, Leslie.” Tom greeted with a yawn, then heaved himself into the back.

Ellis blinked. “Uh. Your little brother is here too?”

“Oh, yeah, Tom was begging to come along.” Joe mentioned as an afterthought, then shrugged. “He’s better with directions anyway, I figured it wouldn’t hurt.”

The initial silence when they piled into the car was deafening. 

“I’m still gonna have to go to court.” Ellis eventually piped up. 

“I know.”

Silence. Ellis spared him a side-eye. “You better not pay for it.”

Mocking offense, Joe put a hand to his chest. “I’m not!” Then, “Not _all_ of it, at least.”

“None of it.”

“How—”

“I have _savings_.”

Joe shook his head. “Don’t waste all your savings on a court case.”

Silence again. 

“I did break a man’s nose.”

“I didn’t say you don’t _deserve_ a charge.” He laughed. “You just don’t have to spend the rest of your money to end up in jail is all.”

“Oh my God.” Ellis could almost hear Tom rolling his eyes saying that. He made to hit the kid with that old ‘the adults are talking’ dig, but as he turned, he noticed the light flush that had appeared on Joe’s face. He looked well chastised for some Godforsaken reason. 

Instead, he swatted blindly towards the backseat. “Respect your elders, ya gimp.” He muttered, making solid contact with Tom’s leg. 

It was quiet again after that—apart from the offended little “ _ow_!” from Tom. It was beginning to stress him out a bit, but he’d be damned if he tried to break it. 

“I can roll the window down,” Joe mentioned eventually—he probably noticed Ellis’ fidgeting out of the corner of his eye. “If you need a smoke.”

Ellis glanced away. “Don’t have one.”

Joe’s eyebrows went up. “Did you forget them at the station or something?”

“Quit.”

There was a brief screech from the tires and the car lurched, causing Tom to yelp from the backseat. 

Joe quickly corrected himself on the road, but his jaw was still stuck open. “You _quit_?”  
Ellis shrugged nonchalantly. “That’s— wow, I didn’t expect that. I mean, I’m supportive, of course! I just… huh. How long?”

“Well, let’s see,” Ellis began counting on his fingers. “I got laid off Tuesday, evicted Friday, so… I’d say about three days now?”

“I’m really proud of you.” 

He choked a bit, then cleared his throat to hide it. “It’s not that big a deal. ‘S only three days.”

Joe scoffed, but it didn’t sound dismissive. “It’s three terrible days, you mean. That counts as a month at _least_.”

Ellis dropped his head back against the headrest and laughed dryly. “Which one of us is older, again?”

“Struggles don’t just stop after a certain age.”

“Your words of wisdom are only proving my point.”

He was far too pleased with himself at Joe’s incredulous laugh. “I’ve had help, Ellis, that’s all.”  
His laughter settled down into a gentle smile. Ellis could see Joe briefly look towards him from the corner of his eye. “And I want to help you now, too.”

He had an almost uncontrollable urge to chew what little nails he had on his fingers into oblivion. Ellis shoved them into his pockets instead. 

God, he needed a smoke. 

Another six and a half hours passed, but this time, Ellis properly fell asleep halfway through it, to the tune of a couple of Blakes bickering with each other about God only knows what. Waking up parked in the dirt path/driveway/whatever made him feel fifteen again, and for a moment in his drowsy haze, he nearly forgot that he wasn’t. Then, he remembered that he was actually more than a quarter of the way to death, and the fuzzy nostalgia went away, replaced only by the knowledge that he couldn’t reduce his lungs to jelly anymore. 

Sluggishly, Ellis dragged himself out of the car and stretched his limbs out, the almost cartoonish cracking of his bones and joints doing nothing to help his mood. On the bright side, navigating the inside of the house required nothing but muscle memory—he practically lived here for a while back in the day. For… various reasons. 

The property outside seemed bigger, though, and there were parts that he didn’t recognize anymore.  
Ellis whistled as he looked out the window towards the orchard. “You really did plant more, huh?”

“Yeah,” Joe craned his neck to look over Ellis’ shoulder, as if he needed to refresh his memory. He felt snuffling on the back of his neck and turned, alarmed, to find a grown-up Myrtle cradled in Joe’s arms as if she were still a puppy. “A lot has changed since you left.”

Ellis gestured dumbly at the 50 pound collie that was being rocked like a baby, her tail wagging all the while. Joe grinned. “She’s got her own puppies now. Surreal, innit?”

“That’s not… what…” Ellis turned back towards the window. “Nevermind.”

“Why, if it isn’t Ellis Leslie in the flesh!” Mrs. Blake’s voice was excited as she emerged from deeper in the house to greet Ellis with a hug tight enough to realign his vertebrae (thank you, ma’am) and commented about how much he’d grown ( _thank_ you, ma’am).

“Your kids didn’t leave you here all by yourself for 12 hours, did they?” He asked, only half joking. 

Mrs. Blake laughed and shook her head. “No, no, the neighbor boys came round to help out. Joseph made sure of that, he did.” She reached up and held his face, turning it this way and that, presumably taking in his naturally sunken cheeks. “How much have you _eaten_ today?”

Ellis glanced away, feeling a bit guilty for no real reason. “Nothing, ma’am.”

“Noth—?!” She reared up, apparently offended on a personal level by that answer. “You boys go out and put the herd up. _We_ ,” Mrs. Blake released his face, only to hold his arm in her vice-like grip. “Are making dinner.”

Like the well-trained worker bees they were, Tom and Joe responded immediately with “yes, ma’am” and rushed outside, Joe having to lag behind so he could put down Myrtle. Ellis went along with Mrs. Blake’s whims, following her into the kitchen. 

His hands were shaking too much to chop vegetables very well, but she didn’t say anything against it, only dropping them into the pot with a grateful smile. 

“What’s the matter, dear?” She finally asked. “You can pop outside to smoke, you know. I won’t mind.”

Ellis shook his head. “I don’t do that anymore.”

Mrs. Blake’s eyebrows went up, then it must have hit her. “Recently, then? I suppose that explains it.”

“Yeah.” He cracked his neck. “Very recently.”

Mrs. Blake peered at him sideways. “I assume that’s why Joseph brought you here, then?”

Ellis was getting irritated against his will. “Part of it.”

She nodded, and luckily, that was the end of it. Something wasn’t quite sitting right, though. He had to know. 

“Did he… tell you anything?” He asked, forcing docitiliy back into himself for Mrs. Blake’s sake—not that she was exactly a fragile woman. “About why I called, I mean.”

Mrs. Blake hummed, stirring the boiling pot on the stove. “Just that he’d be bringing you home. Then he was out the door.” 

Oh. 

So, what, he just _knew_ that Ellis would go along with it? Or was Joe just planning to throw him over his shoulder and drag him here kicking and screaming, whether he liked it or not? Either way, he was right, and that kind of pissed him off. 

“He’s always so headstrong,” Mrs. Blake carried on. “Never looks before he leaps. He always thinks he’s not as bad as his brother in that regard…” She gave him a look, like they shared a secret. “But he is. He might even be worse.”

“He’s definitely worse.” Ellis agreed. “It’s ‘cause he’s so damn confident in himself. Just because his plans work out doesn’t mean he isn’t a dumbass.” 

She snorted when he covered his mouth—he was usually able to avoid cursing around her. “No, no, you’re absolutely right about that.”

By the time dinner was halfway done, the disaster duo had slipped back inside, covered in mud. 

“What the Devil were you two doing out there?” Mrs. Blake asked incredulously. 

“Sherman’s horns are too big, mum.” Joe complained, Myrtle circling around him as if she, too, were laughing at his expense. “He knocked me down again.”

“No, he just doesn’t like you.” Tom snickered into a mud-stained hand. “Sherm doesn’t butt _me_.”

Joe cuffed him round the back of his head, which did nothing to make him stop laughing. “God, stop calling him that.”

Arms crossed and eyebrow cocked, Mrs. Blake tried to hide her amusement. “And what about _you_ , Thomas?”

Tom abruptly stopped, then looked away. Thankfully, Joe was happy to answer for him. “The tup got ‘im.”

“I don’t understand why he hates me so much!” Tom whined. Mrs. Blake clicked her tongue and shooed them off to the bathrooms to wash up.  
Ellis didn’t think he’d ever eaten as much a day in his life as he had that first night. He had to physically push his plate away after Mrs. Blake served up fourths for him. 

Ellis knew that the saying was ‘early to bed and early to rise’, but by the time the clock struck midnight, he just didn’t feel tired. The rest of the family—or rather, the only actual family living here... wasn’t sure where _that_ came from—had drifted off about three hours ago, although Joe tried to stick it out a bit longer for Ellis’ sake. 

He thinks so, anyway. 

Well, if he thought too hard about that now, he’d never get to sleep, so he sucked it up and laid down in the guest bed. The familiar tacky wallpaper beginning to peel where the wall met the ceiling did more to relax him than anything else ever had. Except, y’know, cigarettes.  
Ellis had a strange dream that night when he eventually passed out. He thinks there may have been barbed wire involved at some point, but he can’t be sure. 

“Up and attem!” Was what Ellis woke up to the first morning, followed by a clicking sound and a blinding light. He tried to shield his eyes, but it was no use—he was already awake. He sat up, rubbing over his face with a groan of complaint, but the only sympathy he got was a laugh.  
“You’ll get used to it. Come on; you were technically supposed to start two hours ago.” 

At that, Ellis was on his feet in a split second, swaying all the while. “Two hours?!”

“No need to rush, it’s only your first day.” He could just barely see Joe’s smile through bleary eyes before the man turned and walked out of the room with a quick slap to the doorframe. Ellis was kind of impressed by how fast he could get himself ready with the proper motivation, i.e. not failing to live up to what was required of him to live under a roof. 

God, he needed a smoke. 

Those first few days were almost comparable to torture. Somehow, Ellis was even worse at farmhand-ing now than he was as a kid. I mean, he got it _done_ , but it didn’t come easy. Routine was good, though. Routine kept him distracted when his hand reached towards his pocket for a pack that wasn’t there. Even if that routine required him to get up at 5AM to wrestle with cows who didn’t fucking know what was good for them. 

About a week into this new routine, Ellis reckoned he figured out what his problem was. As stated before, Joe was a man now. A man who worked all day every day on a ranch. And when he said a man, he meant a _grown_ man.   
Then there was Ellis out in the barn, just trying to get a fucking hay bale down for the goddamn horses, and here comes Joe with the sleeves of his stupid fucking flannel rolled up to his elbows. That bastard was doing it on purpose, he had to be. It was a test. Ellis was being tested. Well it wouldn’t work. He—

Was now buried up to his knees in hay. 

Joe blinked once, stunned into silence with a hay bale still stuck to the end of his pitchfork. Then, finally, he broke into hysterics. “ _How_? How did you _do_ that?” 

“Fuck off,” Ellis spit out a mouth full of straw, and Joe had to put down his pitchfork to sink to his haunches, face buried in his hands and laughing at Ellis’ misery all the while. He deserved that handful of hay that Ellis stuffed down the back of his shirt. 

The next few minutes were a bit of a blur, punctuated only by flashes of Joe’s brilliant smile, and the prominent crease in his brow that appeared when he laughed, and his fucking _forearms_ and. Shit. Ellis really _was_ gay, wasn’t he?

Yeah, well, he figured that one out a long time ago. This just solidified it is all. 

All that was to say: he wasn’t sure how they ended up here, tangled up together in one of the giant piles of hay strewn around the barn and laughing uncontrollably. It must have been the first time in nearly two months that Ellis actually, genuinely laughed. 

He was still coming down from his high when he noticed _exactly_ what had happened—and why Joe’s pretty, soft smile was directly above him. It must’ve been then that Joe noticed too, because he lifted his head up like an English Pointer, alert for any noise. Then, he looked back down, and his smile kind of melted into something akin to awe. 

Ellis blinked. Joe blinked. There were footsteps outside. 

“Sorry.” Joe finally said with an awkward, apologetic chuckle, apparently snapping out of it and releasing Ellis from the cage of his arms. Ellis must have been quite dazed himself, because he didn’t have a single sarcastic comment for that. He only nodded and sat up, and by that time, Joe had already picked up his hay bale and was leaving. He greeted his little brother on the way, who walked in soon afterwards. 

God. He _really_ needed a smoke. 

Neither of them brought that strange encounter up for the rest of the day, which… made sense, because what the hell were they supposed to say anyway? 

The real question was: what the fuck _was_ that? Yeah, they were horsing around (heh) and ended up falling, big deal, but _that_ … that was different for both of them. Wasn’t it? Ellis wasn’t going mad from withdrawal, was he? He was so distracted by his own thoughts that he didn’t even refuse when Mrs. Blake shoveled more food onto his plate at dinner. 

After the day’s (and night’s) work was over, Ellis wandered outside to the orchard section of the property. He stood there, staring up at the unpolluted sky, and thought a while longer. 

“Mind if I join you?” Joe’s voice appeared from behind him, and it definitely did _not_ startle him. Joe was snickering for some _other_ reason, he’s sure. Ellis shrugged in a way that meant “I absolutely do not mind, but I have to pretend that I don’t care for some reason”.

Joe settled down on his back, prompting Ellis to follow by example. “How’re you feeling? About all this, I mean.”

“All this?” Ellis asked. “Eh, it keeps me distracted. But I still,” He waved his hand. “Y’know.”

Joe hummed thoughtfully. 

“I’m not as young and spry as I used to be. It’s harder now.” Ellis carried on. “I’m either distracted by work or distracted by cravings. It’s all a pain in the ass.”

“Yeah, it is.” He could see Joe look towards him from the corner of his eye. “You knew that before you started. But you did it anyway, that’s the important part.”

Ellis sighed, world-weary and long-suffering. “Is it even worth it at this point? I mean, I probably have fucking lung cancer already anyway.”

Joe sat up suddenly and turned completely towards him. This actually did startle Ellis, who looked to meet his gaze—fiery and passionate, as it often was when he… y'know… _cared_.

“Of course it’s worth it, you bloody idiot! You’ve already gotten so far—”

“Two weeks,” Ellis muttered, somewhat intimidated but still determined to undermine himself. 

“Two weeks!” Joe repeated, like it was the greatest thing mankind had ever achieved. “Not a single cigarette in two weeks! I mean, you used to blow through, what, a pack a day? Even back then? Not a _single_ one!”  
Ellis faltered, then scoffed to cover it up. “Ellis, why is it so hard for you to believe that you deserve to exist?” 

“Why do you care so much?” He deflected, although he was definitely curious to hear the answer. Joe wasn’t having it, though. 

“You’re not turning this around on me.” He said firmly. Joe really expected an answer to that, then. Ellis rubbed a hand over his face, bone tired. 

“I don’t know if you’re trying to be poetic or whatever, but it’s not that I “don’t deserve to exist”, it’s that I don’t give a shit either way.” He cast a sidelong glance. “Unlike you, clearly.”

In all the many years he’d known Joe, he’d never seen him speechless. 

“It’s because— because we’re friends.” He set his jaw in the sort of way he did when he was trying to seem more believable. 

“Mmm,” Ellis wagged a finger, because why the hell not throw his life away again? What did he really have to lose except food, shelter, water, and a man he was in love with? “Almost. Not quite.”

“Is that not enough?”

“Of course it’s _enough_.” Joe shrunk a bit, and Ellis began to wonder if the sky was about to fall down. “But it’s not the truth. Not all of it, at least.”

Joe struggled to think of something. 

“We’re not kids anymore, Joe.” Ellis pushed further, sat up and crossed his arms. “Aren’t we a little too old to still be doing this?”

“Then…” Joe looked around, shuffled closer. “It’s… this is real?”

“This?” 

“This.” Joe gestured between them. “Us. Whatever it is we’ve been avoiding.”

Ellis recklessly reached out to close the distance in place of an answer, finally pulling Joe in after years of only wanting to, in that vague sort of way that he never fully recognized. Joe reacted almost immediately, his hands coming up to cradle the back of Ellis’ head. His brain cracked a bit under the pressure, he reckoned, because once it started, it was as if his life depended on its continuation. 

If Myrtle hadn’t come bounding towards them at full speed after what was either one minute or five hours of basically trying to crawl into each other’s skin, uh… well, they’d’ve gotten kicked to the curb, to put it mildly.

After a brief, heart stopping moment of staring at each other, then Myrtle, then each other, then Myrtle again, Joe’s lips warbled until they formed a barely-held-back smile. Then, he burst out laughing, dropping his head forward onto Ellis’ shoulder and patting Myrtle’s side with three dull thumps. 

“You nearly gave me a heart attack, you little bastard,” Joe didn’t bother lifting his head to say that (Ellis really hoped he was talking to the dog). Myrtle shoved her snout between them, her tail wagging as she whined for attention. 

“D’you think your mum sent her out here to stop us?” 

Joe snorted. “Probably.”

“Then we should probably get inside.” Ellis said, making no actual effort to follow through. 

“Yeah.” Joe agreed, equally as useless. Myrtle whined louder and pawed at Joe’s arm. “Alright, alright, I’m coming.”   
He withdrew from Ellis, much to Ellis’ great chagrin, and stood up with another solid pat to Myrtle’s side. 

Ellis leaned back on his hands with a long, admittedly dramatic sigh and Joe cracked the same smile that he’d always offered him—the one that Ellis now recognized as adoring. Joe held out his hand to Ellis, which he accepted, and they only dropped the connection when they reached the house. 

Ellis still needed a smoke, but he could probably go a little bit longer without one. 

**Author's Note:**

> Once again dedicated to the 2nd Devons’ 💖💖💖💖💖


End file.
